Post by Corey Bull on Nov 11, 2018 21:53:56 GMT -5
OFFCAMERA
Utter Destruction. That is what is seen. Tables overturned and reduced to kindling. Shattered windows and broken vases. If it looks like it should have been treated with care, it is in several hundred pieces and distributed around the room. In the center of this room is the proverbial bull in the china shop. Corey Bull stands shirtless, cuts here and there across his body with blood slowly dripping out. His steel toed work boots crackle and grind over the ground as he grabs onto a shelving installed to the wall and rips it out, a guttural grunt and roar follow its shattering on the floor. Abagail Voorhees stands in a large shirt leaning against the wall. She looks like she just woke up, but still manages to make it look flawless.
“What in the fucking hell?” She speaks each word slowly, with force. Bull stops and turns, his eyes pools of molten metal.
“Why are you tearing your house apart?”
Bulls body hunches, but only slightly. His breathing is ragged but his voice is crystal clear. “We have been deceived by the demis.”
Abagail seems to suddenly perk up, her eyes larger than they were a second a go, here voice more controlled. “What do you mean we have been deceived? How?!”
“With the addition of the beach krew.”
“So your saying that one of them is the demi you spoke of?”
Bull nods as he wipes the grime from his face, debris from shattering objects. “Yes. And that means that our plans were all just a smokescreen.”
Abagail lifts her hands and waves them around the room. Her voice is calm, and a little sarcastic. “And how does all this help?”
A smirk plays on her face as Bull looks to her. He grins and chuckles. “Anger management.”
Both share a laugh and Bull walks to her, lifting her up and carrying her over the destruction to the kitchen and settling her on a bar stool at the large island. He reaches into the refrigerator and starts to pull out left overs and some orange juice.
“So whats the move?”
Bull pours her a glass of orange juice and sets it in front of her, then sets the juice down and places his hands on the bar.
“It’s time to make some calls. We can’t reach the goal solo. There are just too many factors now that stand in the way. We are going to need a crew of our own, but one that is loyal to the cause.”
Abagail looks at his phone. “And who have you called?”
“Bull shrugs and seems evasive. “Oh you know...just a few people we know.”
Abagail sets down the juice and looks at him. “You called him didn’t you?”
Bulls grin tells it all. Abagail throws her hands up exasperated. “You can’t possibly think he is going to be of any help. His power is unstable! One minute he is fighting like a champ...the next he is the jester of the match.”
Bull rests on his forearms and gets eye level with her. “But he is loyal and someone we trust. We understand the complications...it's no different than our own power.”
Abagail grabs his phone and scrolls through the last few calls. “Him! This dude is on coke all the time!”
“But he knows how to fight. So what if he is lit up when it happens. Look...it is time that the inmates ran the asylum...and you need the craziest of the lot to run rampant over the others. Neither one answered. So it's a matter of just seeing what happens. We have to worry about this tag match and our US shot in the near future. This is important, but must not get in the way of preparing for them.”
Abagail looks at Bull. “I’m just worried. This is as bad as that time finding all those Spartans just slaughtered with no explanation as to how. I feel like we are walking into a trap.”
Bull shrugs. “It isn’t the first time...it won’t be the last we are sure. You can not account for everything. We just need to be the ones that stand above the rest in order for this to work.”
“I hope so. We are close now.”
Bull nods. “One step at a time Abagail. One step at a time.”
ON CAMERA
**When the camera comes on and the lights come up we are in the lower realms of the arena with Corey Bull. There is no long walk down a dark and dingy hallway with pipes and lights, though you can take this moment to imagine that if you wish. Instead, we are right in the makeshift locker room that Bull loves to sit in before his matches. Not much really, some lights, a bench, his gym bag. Everything else is just a distraction anywyas. Bull is sitting with his back to the wall, his hands wrapped and his eyes closed. Abagail Voorhees walks in and looks at him, looks at the camera...then looks at him again.**
“So you going to go first or can I?”
**Bull opens an eye and nods towards the camera**
“You can go.”
**Abagail turns to the camera and there is a less than pleasant grin on her face. She walks to the camera, and from this angle you can tell it is just sitting on the floor, and picks it up, in the ultimate of selfies like angle. Cause you know...its a big camera**
“Oh Dandy...you really have no idea. You think that my monster is just a puppet? Are you even fucking watching the same matches he is in...do you even know what his daily life is like? No...not even a clue. But your assumptions...well that's another story right? Well let me clear the air for you darling. Let me show you the light. Bull isn’t the puppet here…”
**Abby pulls the camera closer**
“...you are. The referee is the puppet. I have done exactly what I intended to do. I have pulled your eyes from the goal. You think you are on course...but if one listens to your interview, if that is what the hell that was, then you can see your mind is not on the prize...but on the woman that walks outside the ring. Your worried about me Dandy...and you should be. I have been pulling your strings and the strings of the refs since I started to walk out to the ring. And you know what...I don’t even have to try that hard. Your a man. And your dick is really running the show. Little side boob, a batting of my eyelashes, and you seem to forget what it is your are doing.”
**Abby lowers the camera so it is face level to her**
“And I will continue to do it. All I need to do...is show up. Maybe I’ll throw on some skank wear and really distract you. Even the cameraman will have issues looking at the action in the ring. But that is the point. I am the puppet master...you are the puppet...and you will jump when I tell you to Dandy. Just like the ref will count when I tell him to.”
**Abby hands the camera to Bull, who just smirks and holds it out at arm level**
“Dandy...don’t listen to her. We know Abagail is dangerous...but your real threat is us. We are the one that you should concern yourself with. We intend to take from you that US Championship. We intend to bury your short career in a shallow grave and watch you wallow in your own self pity. And it will be fun for us Dandy..every last second of it will be a moment of glory. To listen to your struggle...to watch you slowly come to the realization of your own defeat and to watch you curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment. Well that really is the icing on the cake. Because you truly believe you are better than us...that you are talented beyond our imagination. And yet...you have done nothing that has surprised us….nothing!”
**Bulls grin takes a vacation and is replaced with a visage of anger, rage, and pure hatred. But his voice is still calm...unsettling so**
“But you are the champ still...so that we will give you. You managed to take the belt off of TFK...but that has been your career highlight thus far. And it will be your only highlight. We heard the talk in the back that first time we faced off...everyone was wondering how long you would go till you lost. And that very night...we pinned you clean in the middle for the three count. And instead of accepting your loss...you whined like a little bitch. IT was stolen! Bah...your a poor excuse for a wrestler….you look more like a PSA for not doing heroin. But go ahead...you live in that little world you have created for yourself. You keep telling yourself it was stolen...that you needed to get that win back. And when we beat you at Turmoil...we are sure you will have another fancy story about how you lost and it wasn’t your fault.”
“And Bishop...let's be honest here, we forgot you even wrestled here anymore. Your so low on our fucks to give list, that we have you in the negatives. But here you are...in a match where your presence is not only not felt...but not wanted or needed. We get it...you are suppose to be some sort of a big man or some shit. We don’t know...watching a Bishop promo is like sandpaper for the eyes. We tried...we even went and watched some of your previous matches and that was just as painful. The fact that they still let you in the building just tells us how low the standards are starting to become. So to make it easy on management….we are going to bury you right next to Dandy. But your grave will be a little deeper and have rocks on it. We don’t need you coming back.”
**Bull shakes his head**
“Now our partner….well at least he understands a good fight right. Destroyer...it is obvious you got screwed out of a legit chance. We know this….we just don’t care to be honest. You want another shot….then let your balls drop, man up and tell someone who cares. But it will have to wait. We want you to pay attention and remain focused. We intend to bury those two...with or without you. So get your head in the game or get the fuck out of our way.”
“Because we are going to Nail everyone that stands in our way of a win with Hate!”
**Bull tosses the camera and there is the expected smash, white noise, and silence of everything becoming black**
Utter Destruction. That is what is seen. Tables overturned and reduced to kindling. Shattered windows and broken vases. If it looks like it should have been treated with care, it is in several hundred pieces and distributed around the room. In the center of this room is the proverbial bull in the china shop. Corey Bull stands shirtless, cuts here and there across his body with blood slowly dripping out. His steel toed work boots crackle and grind over the ground as he grabs onto a shelving installed to the wall and rips it out, a guttural grunt and roar follow its shattering on the floor. Abagail Voorhees stands in a large shirt leaning against the wall. She looks like she just woke up, but still manages to make it look flawless.
“What in the fucking hell?” She speaks each word slowly, with force. Bull stops and turns, his eyes pools of molten metal.
“Why are you tearing your house apart?”
Bulls body hunches, but only slightly. His breathing is ragged but his voice is crystal clear. “We have been deceived by the demis.”
Abagail seems to suddenly perk up, her eyes larger than they were a second a go, here voice more controlled. “What do you mean we have been deceived? How?!”
“With the addition of the beach krew.”
“So your saying that one of them is the demi you spoke of?”
Bull nods as he wipes the grime from his face, debris from shattering objects. “Yes. And that means that our plans were all just a smokescreen.”
Abagail lifts her hands and waves them around the room. Her voice is calm, and a little sarcastic. “And how does all this help?”
A smirk plays on her face as Bull looks to her. He grins and chuckles. “Anger management.”
Both share a laugh and Bull walks to her, lifting her up and carrying her over the destruction to the kitchen and settling her on a bar stool at the large island. He reaches into the refrigerator and starts to pull out left overs and some orange juice.
“So whats the move?”
Bull pours her a glass of orange juice and sets it in front of her, then sets the juice down and places his hands on the bar.
“It’s time to make some calls. We can’t reach the goal solo. There are just too many factors now that stand in the way. We are going to need a crew of our own, but one that is loyal to the cause.”
Abagail looks at his phone. “And who have you called?”
“Bull shrugs and seems evasive. “Oh you know...just a few people we know.”
Abagail sets down the juice and looks at him. “You called him didn’t you?”
Bulls grin tells it all. Abagail throws her hands up exasperated. “You can’t possibly think he is going to be of any help. His power is unstable! One minute he is fighting like a champ...the next he is the jester of the match.”
Bull rests on his forearms and gets eye level with her. “But he is loyal and someone we trust. We understand the complications...it's no different than our own power.”
Abagail grabs his phone and scrolls through the last few calls. “Him! This dude is on coke all the time!”
“But he knows how to fight. So what if he is lit up when it happens. Look...it is time that the inmates ran the asylum...and you need the craziest of the lot to run rampant over the others. Neither one answered. So it's a matter of just seeing what happens. We have to worry about this tag match and our US shot in the near future. This is important, but must not get in the way of preparing for them.”
Abagail looks at Bull. “I’m just worried. This is as bad as that time finding all those Spartans just slaughtered with no explanation as to how. I feel like we are walking into a trap.”
Bull shrugs. “It isn’t the first time...it won’t be the last we are sure. You can not account for everything. We just need to be the ones that stand above the rest in order for this to work.”
“I hope so. We are close now.”
Bull nods. “One step at a time Abagail. One step at a time.”
ON CAMERA
**When the camera comes on and the lights come up we are in the lower realms of the arena with Corey Bull. There is no long walk down a dark and dingy hallway with pipes and lights, though you can take this moment to imagine that if you wish. Instead, we are right in the makeshift locker room that Bull loves to sit in before his matches. Not much really, some lights, a bench, his gym bag. Everything else is just a distraction anywyas. Bull is sitting with his back to the wall, his hands wrapped and his eyes closed. Abagail Voorhees walks in and looks at him, looks at the camera...then looks at him again.**
“So you going to go first or can I?”
**Bull opens an eye and nods towards the camera**
“You can go.”
**Abagail turns to the camera and there is a less than pleasant grin on her face. She walks to the camera, and from this angle you can tell it is just sitting on the floor, and picks it up, in the ultimate of selfies like angle. Cause you know...its a big camera**
“Oh Dandy...you really have no idea. You think that my monster is just a puppet? Are you even fucking watching the same matches he is in...do you even know what his daily life is like? No...not even a clue. But your assumptions...well that's another story right? Well let me clear the air for you darling. Let me show you the light. Bull isn’t the puppet here…”
**Abby pulls the camera closer**
“...you are. The referee is the puppet. I have done exactly what I intended to do. I have pulled your eyes from the goal. You think you are on course...but if one listens to your interview, if that is what the hell that was, then you can see your mind is not on the prize...but on the woman that walks outside the ring. Your worried about me Dandy...and you should be. I have been pulling your strings and the strings of the refs since I started to walk out to the ring. And you know what...I don’t even have to try that hard. Your a man. And your dick is really running the show. Little side boob, a batting of my eyelashes, and you seem to forget what it is your are doing.”
**Abby lowers the camera so it is face level to her**
“And I will continue to do it. All I need to do...is show up. Maybe I’ll throw on some skank wear and really distract you. Even the cameraman will have issues looking at the action in the ring. But that is the point. I am the puppet master...you are the puppet...and you will jump when I tell you to Dandy. Just like the ref will count when I tell him to.”
**Abby hands the camera to Bull, who just smirks and holds it out at arm level**
“Dandy...don’t listen to her. We know Abagail is dangerous...but your real threat is us. We are the one that you should concern yourself with. We intend to take from you that US Championship. We intend to bury your short career in a shallow grave and watch you wallow in your own self pity. And it will be fun for us Dandy..every last second of it will be a moment of glory. To listen to your struggle...to watch you slowly come to the realization of your own defeat and to watch you curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment. Well that really is the icing on the cake. Because you truly believe you are better than us...that you are talented beyond our imagination. And yet...you have done nothing that has surprised us….nothing!”
**Bulls grin takes a vacation and is replaced with a visage of anger, rage, and pure hatred. But his voice is still calm...unsettling so**
“But you are the champ still...so that we will give you. You managed to take the belt off of TFK...but that has been your career highlight thus far. And it will be your only highlight. We heard the talk in the back that first time we faced off...everyone was wondering how long you would go till you lost. And that very night...we pinned you clean in the middle for the three count. And instead of accepting your loss...you whined like a little bitch. IT was stolen! Bah...your a poor excuse for a wrestler….you look more like a PSA for not doing heroin. But go ahead...you live in that little world you have created for yourself. You keep telling yourself it was stolen...that you needed to get that win back. And when we beat you at Turmoil...we are sure you will have another fancy story about how you lost and it wasn’t your fault.”
“And Bishop...let's be honest here, we forgot you even wrestled here anymore. Your so low on our fucks to give list, that we have you in the negatives. But here you are...in a match where your presence is not only not felt...but not wanted or needed. We get it...you are suppose to be some sort of a big man or some shit. We don’t know...watching a Bishop promo is like sandpaper for the eyes. We tried...we even went and watched some of your previous matches and that was just as painful. The fact that they still let you in the building just tells us how low the standards are starting to become. So to make it easy on management….we are going to bury you right next to Dandy. But your grave will be a little deeper and have rocks on it. We don’t need you coming back.”
**Bull shakes his head**
“Now our partner….well at least he understands a good fight right. Destroyer...it is obvious you got screwed out of a legit chance. We know this….we just don’t care to be honest. You want another shot….then let your balls drop, man up and tell someone who cares. But it will have to wait. We want you to pay attention and remain focused. We intend to bury those two...with or without you. So get your head in the game or get the fuck out of our way.”
“Because we are going to Nail everyone that stands in our way of a win with Hate!”
**Bull tosses the camera and there is the expected smash, white noise, and silence of everything becoming black**